My Angel, Misao
by Wolf-Maiden Mitsuki
Summary: Rewritten. Inspired by Episode 85 of the series, this one-shot features Aoshi's POV as he and the other members of the Oniwabanshu are on their way back to Kyoto. A/M pairing.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or the characters found therein. I write for pleasure, not profit—although I am partial to reviews.

**Author Note: **Episode 85 of the series ("To My Angel Misao in…") inspired this work of fiction. I really enjoyed how they portrayed both Aoshi and Misao. This one-shot takes place during their return to Kyoto.

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**"My Angel, Misao"**

-a Rurouni Kenshin fanfic-

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As former leader of the Oniwaban group, I feel responsible for every member. They have been my family for most of my life and I cherish every one of them. I say former leader, because several months ago I awakened to the fact that I had lost my mind.

Filled with guilt and hatred for the man who killed my comrades, I set out to destroy the wrong man...and nearly allowed another man to take over the country. Since then, I have tried to realign my spirit with good—the hours of meditation, the ritual fasting – all are penitence for my sins. If it wasn't for the patience and kindness of my friend Himura Kenshin, who suffered injury and insult by my hands, I might've been lost forever.

The summer sun beats down upon us as we travel from Tokyo back to Kyoto. With our darling, Misao, in tow we set out this morning at daybreak. Disappearing from the Kamiya Dojo like dew in the mid-morning sun, there was no one to bid us farewell. This is, no one except Kenshin. The others were still sleeping, having bid us farewell the night before.

Misao walks beside me now, her black hair gleaming in its long braid that falls down her back like a silken cord. She looks up at me with hopeful eyes, sparkling with happiness. How many times in the past, since the days when she was just a child in our care, has she looked at me with those same emotions?

Too many times for me to count...and too many times I have been the reason those emotions went away once more. Of all the Oniwaban members, I have always felt most responsible for Misao, though I rarely had the means or the leisure to show it. Many times, I've been forced to leave that responsibility in the hands of others. Most often the hands that cared for her were the hands of my own master – the old man, Okina.

Today, the privilege of taking her home again to Kyoto is my mission. All too soon, this duty will be fulfilled. One day soon, perhaps in a week or so, Misao and I will march over the threshold of the Aoiya Restaurant with the others. Within my robes, the paper balloon Misao purchased for me lay deflated and close. I will cherish it always.

Together, we shall return home and live once again in the harmony we have known so often in the past...but my mind lingers on the memory of her words at the Kamiya Dojo.

As she spoke with the other women, she thought I did not hear her speaking. Her initial refusal to return to the Aoiya with us stemmed from her thought that I didn't come of my own free will. It was her thought that I saw her only as the child she used to be. The pain in her voice as she spoke those words cut my heart, making me ache in a place I hadn't known existed. I look down at the young woman walking beside me, her Oniwaban uniform faded and weary from use. She wears those faded colors with pride. It is the same pride that I, too, have always felt.

We are the same, Misao and I. We are true members of our order. We are soldiers, proud and ready to defend out surrogate family with our lives. I helped train her, raising her as I would my own blood. The others and I have loved her as one would their younger sister.

And yet –

The feelings that have started stirring deep within my heart when I look at her are not the doting feelings of a protective older brother, but more – much, much more. It shames me to think that even as strong as I am, I cannot find the strength or the courage to tell her how my feelings have changed. Alas, I am still too weak.

She pauses in her walking, seeming to sense my eyes on her. The others ahead pay no attention to our lagging behind – no doubt they seek to give us privacy. Their matchmaking is not lost on me. Or perhaps, they sense the change in my demeanor of late. It doesn't matter, because Misao looks up at me know. Her eyes have lost their previous, hopeful look and I feel dismayed. Again, I have taken her happiness from her. Now, her eyes hold the shadow of concern.

"Lord Aoshi, are you okay?" she asks, but her voice sounds strained.

Her words echo in my head and I ask myself: _am_ I okay? Of course I am. With Misao at my side, I don't have the power to be anything else. I nod, trying to put her mind at ease.

"Yes," I tell her. "I'm fine. It's very warm today, that's all."

I want to tell her how glad I am to see her again. I want to make her understand how lost I've been lately, and how I've missed her – but I'm still too much of a coward.

Misao smiles and pulls a small leather water-skin from her side. Without hesitation, she offers it to me and looks at me with those eyes that pierce me to the core.

"Perhaps you're just thirsty. Have some of my water, I've got plenty."

Taking the skin from her, I nod my thanks and take a drink. Though I'm not thirsty, the gratitude I feel for her concern, for her wish to take care of my needs, makes it impossible to say no. The water is tepid and tastes of the water-skin, but I don't care.

In her kindness, Misao has always tried to look after me, ever since she was a child and I her teacher. Since I returned to the Oniwaban, Misao has not left my side. Every moment she can spare she has spent in service to me – sitting in the temples while I meditate, abstaining from food as I fasted and prayed for atonement. Even now, as the sun beats down upon us, sweat rolls down Misao's face but she doesn't complain. I hand the water-skin back.

She takes it from me and ties it back to her waist without glancing down. Her eyes are bright.

"Misao," I begin thickly, feeling the ineptness of my tongue to wrap around the words burning in my heart. "I'm very glad that you decided to return. The Aoiya isn't the same without you."

I struggle within myself. My words don't reflect the depth of my feelings.

I wait for her response, looking far ahead at the backs of Omasu and Ochika for a moment. I see my companions talking amongst themselves. From time to time, they look back at us over their shoulders and smile. They have seen how I have changed, but as I turn to face Misao again, I see that she does not.

An emotion enters her face that does not suit her. She hides her face from me and, from underneath a curtain of long bangs, all I can see is the tightly-held mouth.

"Lord Aoshi, I want to say something to you, if I could." She begins quietly. "It's going to be hard for me to say, so please listen."

It's my turn to frown. I turn fully towards her. Seeming to sense the situation, Omasu and Ochika stop far ahead of us, turn back and look at us. Unconcerned about their watching us, I reach down to lift Misao's chin up so that I might see the green of her eyes. My throat constricts when I see unshed tears in them. Bravely, she does not avoid my eyes, but looks at me. Her eyes burn into mind and I find I cannot look away.

"What's wrong, Misao. I'm listening."

"I...I'm not a child anymore, Lord Aoshi." She finally says, drawing herself straight. She seems to have found her courage now. "But...I do realize that I can act very childish sometimes. I'm-"

She pauses, closing her eyes. A tear threatens to roll down her cheek. I ache as I watch her struggle with her words. When she continues, her voice trembles.

"I'm very happy that you came with the others," she says, "I was afraid you didn't care whether or not I was at the Aoiya. I thought that you only came because Okina made you come."

The tear slides down her face and my free hand reaches out to wipe it away. My heart burns with her words, just as it did when I overheard them at the Kamiya Dojo. Her eyes snap open at my touch and she frowns. The hand that I used to lift her chin removes itself and instead, I use it to brush her hair from her face.

"How could I not care?" I whisper harshly, finding my courage at last. "Why would you think Okina would make me do such a thing? Or could, for that matter, if I had no desire to do so?"

At my tone, Misao looks away from me like a child scolded by a parent. Silently, I curse my ineptness.

"Misao," I try again, more gently than before, "You have been by my side without fail ever since you were a child. How could I not care where you are? Or miss you when you are away? Especially now, when you've become so important to me."

"Lord Aoshi." She whispers, eyes wide and liquid.

Her face contorting in raw emotion, Misao throws herself into my arms and grips me tightly around the torso. Stunned at her blatant affection, I stand still...unsure of how to proceed. However, when I feel her small body shaking as she cries into my chest, my soul moves with compassion and my arms wrap around her as well. The heat of the day has melted away and all I can do is breathe in the fragrance of my darling, Misao's hair.

"I think it is time we dropped the honorific." I whisper to her, feeling my heart and mind break free at last. "I am only Aoshi and you...you are my angel, Misao."

THE END


End file.
